


Potential

by punk_rock_yuppie



Series: impetus [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Intergluteal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Character, kind of silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6479662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An early morning quickie is all it's supposed to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Potential

**Author's Note:**

> random, porn-y companion piece to my other fic, momentum! you don't have to read that one to understand this one, but it might add to your enjoyment if you do. 
> 
> not beta'd, enjoy!

Barry rolls over and rubs the sleep sand from his eyes; as he blinks away the last traces of sleep clinging to his gaze, he realizes the other half of the bed is rumpled at empty. With a stretch, Barry looks around until his eyes land on a _wonderful_ sight.

Harry, who always rolls out of bed earlier than Barry, is standing at his dresser with a contemplative look in place. He’s picking through the drawers, lifting certain clothing and setting them back down. He looks serious, deeply entrenched in putting together his outfit for the day.

Barry knows it will likely be yet another all-black ensemble, and it makes Harry’s intense concentration even more amusing.

He’s content to stare for a while, because Harry is naked where he stands and the lines of his body are always intriguing to Barry. He eyes the scars adorning Harry’s back and follows the curves of his muscles down to the swell of his ass. As he takes in the view, his morning wood thickens and tents the blankets drawn over his body.

When Barry starts to move from the bed, Harry stiffens for a moment. He relaxes almost instant—Barry can see the moment Harry remembers where he is, who he is with, and that there is no danger in Barry.

Barry can’t help but plaster himself against Harry’s back. As he peppers kissing along the exposed skin of neck and shoulders, Barry mumbles with a sleep-heavy voice.

“G’morning…” He trails off but pushes his hips forward. His cock presses against Harry’s ass, resting in the cleft between the cheeks. It’s terribly crude, particularly the way his precome smears over Harry’s skin. Barry is surprised he hasn’t been pushed away yet, or even outright reprimanded.

Harry doesn’t tell him to stop. “I have a meeting today,” he scolds, softly, plucking a shirt from the top dresser drawer.

“We have time.” Barry bites at Harry’s earlobe and drinks in the shudder that runs through his body.

“I have a meeting, at _nine_.”

Barry spares a moment of ravishing Harry’s body to peer at the clock— _8:01am_.

“We have plenty of time,” Barry insists. He reaches around Harry and takes the shirt from his hands, sets it on top of the dresser. “You know you’re gonna wear the same thing you always do.”

Harry finally turns in Barry’s arms and gives him a fondly irritated glare.

“Not that that’s a bad thing,” Barry amends. The glare doesn’t deter him from groping Harry’s body with greed. He traces the scars and skirts over his nipples to draw another shiver from Harry. “You’re gonna look good no matter what. But, you’re gonna wear the same thing you always do so it shouldn’t take you _that_ long to get ready.”

“Unlike you, Mr. Allen,” Harry has taken to calling him that only when he’s in trouble, “some of us aren’t able to travel across the city in a matter of seconds.”

Barry blinks back, and Harry sighs.

“I will have to drive, which will take at least twenty minutes.”

Barry’s grin returns. “I can always give you a lift.”

Harry’s minor frustration shifts into unimpressed amusement. Barry takes it as a challenge.

Barry’s hands move quick and eager across Harry’s skin. “C’mon, give me thirty minutes. I’ll have you dressed and at your meeting in forty-five seconds flat.” Barry moves close enough that the edge of the dresser digs into Harry’s back.

“Please?” Barry drags out the word and lets his mouth linger over Harry’s lips.

When Harry rolls his eyes, Barry knows he’s won.

Barry kisses him hard on the mouth, cornering him against the dresser. He keeps Harry from moving toward the bed with a gentle hand against his chest, and is delighted when Harry obeys. Barry ignores the flushed, confused expression on Harry’s face in favor of dropping to his knees. With confidence and excitement blooming in his chest, Barry nuzzles at the soft skin around Harry’s groin.

Harry’s body stiffens again, just as it had when Barry had risen from the bed. This time, though, it’s less from fear and entirely from anticipation.

Barry can already feel the heat rolling off Harry’s skin in waves and his mouth starts to water. One hand still splayed on Harry’s chest, Barry brings his other hand to thumb at Harry’s clit.

Harry sucks in a deep, sharp breath and spreads his legs almost immediately in response. His hands curl around the dresser until his knuckles turn white.

“ _Barry_.”

 It’s a breathless gasp, and it spurs Barry forward. He’s barely touched Harry, and the other is already coming apart for him.

Barry leans in and presses his tongue against Harry’s clit. He licks slowly and carefully and feels the nub swell under his tongue. He moans at the feeling and rolls with the full body shiver Harry lets out in response. He seals his mouth over Harry’s clit and sucks gently, humming all the while.

“God, Barry,” fingers comb through Barry’s hair and tug. “Please.” Harry murmurs.

Barry brings two fingers to Harry’s entrance and rubs them teasingly along the wet edges. He can feel Harry’s body clenching, desperate to be filled, but he doesn’t give in, not yet. He draws one finger through the wetness gathering between Harry’s lips and massages the flushed skin.

Harry’s grip in his hair tightens. “Barry, _now_.”

Barry caves, though it’s hardly a chore.

He presses two fingers inside Harry and starts to thrust. He moves his fingers careful but fast; he pulls back from tonguing Harry’s clit to look up at his pleasure-fogged expression.

Harry’s mouth is slack and hanging open. His eyes are focused on Barry intently, fingers flexing in his hair.

“Harry,” Barry stays close enough so his breath brushes against Harry’s sensitive skin, “I have a question for you.”

“Barry.” Harry’s voice is a growl.

“Can I make you come like this?” Barry crooks his fingers to emphasize his words.

“You better.” Harry snaps as he rolls his hips in time with Barry’s thrusts.

Barry grins. “Then, can I make you come again, on my cock?” Barry sneaks kisses between his words, all along Harry’s skin and pointedly avoiding the place he’s wanted most.

Harry groans. “Fuck, yes, Barry, just _do_ it.”

Barry moves forward again and laps at Harry’s clit as promised. He lets his eyes drift shut as he puts all his focus into making Harry come; he moves his tongue slow and teasing over the engorged skin, but keeps his fingers fast to the point of vibrating. Barry hums and angles his fingers again so they brush over _that_ spot inside Harry that wrings out a shout. His fingers vibrate inside Harry, pressing insistently against that one spot, until Harry is gasping for air.

“Barry, I’m going—I’m going to come.” Harry warns through gritted teeth.

Barry doesn’t pull back.

“Barry, fuck,” Harry’s hips roll with abandon against Barry’s touch. “I’m close.”

Barry mumbles what’s meant to be _come for me_ against Harry’s clit, but it only comes out muffled and hot against the skin. Regardless of how coherent he sounds the vibrations and heat of his voice tip Harry over the edge.

Harry’s walls tighten around Barry’s fingers as he comes. His legs tense together and trap Barry’s hand there as his body pulses with his release. His come slicks Barry’s hand even more and the scent of it has Barry feeling dizzy with arousal.

Barry doesn’t stop lapping at Harry’s clit and instead carries him through the orgasm; he knows his partner is verging on too sensitive and relishes all the wrecked gasps Harry gives to him. Barry pulls back only when Harry starts to push at him and mewl in discomfort. Barry sits back on his heels but doesn’t stray far—his hand is still caught between Harry’s legs, so he couldn’t go very far if he even wanted to.

Still panting for air, Harry’s body relaxes eventually and his legs fall open wide again. Barry takes a moment to enjoy the view, enjoy the come clinging to Harry’s skin and his own fingers. He pulls his fingers out slowly, drawing another groan from Harry as he does. Barry raises his gaze to Harry’s, and licks his fingers clean without breaking eye contact.

“It’s only eight-twenty.” Barry remarks as he stands. His legs are burning and his knees feel sore with a soft case of rug-burn. His mouth feels swollen and the taste of Harry’s come is still coating his mouth. He grins.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Would you like me to return the favor?” Harry reaches out and curls a hand around Barry’s neck, He draws him in until their bodies are pressed tight together again.

Barry shrugs, his dopey grin turning mischievous. “There is something I’ve wanted to try.” Barry drawls.

Harry raises an eyebrow.

“Trust me?” Barry asks though he’s already pushing at Harry’s body.

Harry doesn’t response other than to let Barry manhandle him. He lets himself be turned toward the dresser again and doesn’t protest when Barry bends him over the surface.

Barry moves away for a split second, zapping across the room to the bed and back again. Harry hears the click of lube and it’s the only warning he gets before the chill of the slick is sliding across his ass.

“You aren’t—Barry, we don’t have time for that.” Harry scolds, though he arches his back toward Barry at the feeling.

“I’m not going to fuck you.” Barry’s voice is distant and drifting. “I just want to try something,” He says again. He pulls Harry’s cheeks apart and smears the lube around, but doesn’t pay any special attention to his hole. “You trust me, right?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Yes, Barry, now get on with it.” He’s going to need a shower after this which means they have even less time than before.

“Yessir,” Barry quips before obeying. He keeps Harry’s cheeks spread with one hand and guides his cock with the other. He slots his dick in the slick space between the swells of Harry’s ass and starts to thrust, slow and careful. He shudders at the sensation and speeds up, just a little.

Harry shivers as well; it’s not the weirdest thing Barry has suggested and there’s not as much in it for Harry as there is for the speedster, but it’s still good. Barry is gasping behind him, his hips are moving greedily, Harry feels especially wanted like this and it’s a heady thought. He clenches his ass and Barry’s thrusting stutters for a second.

“Fuck, Harry,” Barry groans as he tries to find his rhythm again.

“Interesting choice, Barry,” Harry remarks in between his own soft moans. There are lingering sparks of arousal traveling over his skin and every time the head of Barry’s cock catches on the rim of his hole, Harry tenses with pleasure. Barry would never even think of trying to fuck him without lavishly prepping him first, but the thought of Barry being _so_ close to fuck him, the thought of what they could be doing, sends shocks of delight down Harry’s spine.

“Thanks.” Barry hisses. He grips Harry’s ass and presses his cheeks together for better friction. “Harry, I’m close.” He’s been achingly hard since he woke up and getting Harry off had only furthered that. Barry is desperate to come, especially desperate to stain Harry’s back and ass with his release.

Harry shivers again and nods. “Come on, Barry, come for me.” Harry’s face burns for a moment and he buries his face in his hands for a brief second. “Come on my ass, Barry.” He growls, though his voice shakes and his face is probably the most obnoxious cherry red.

It’s worth it for the stammering groan that tears from Barry’s chest. Barry’s whole body vibrates as he comes, hips thrusting fast and uneven. It’s slick and wet and mess and Barry barely manages to keep his eyes open to watch his come spill onto the small of Harry’s back. He moans again at the sight, some weird slurred version of Harry’s name and several swears. Slowly, Barry’s body relaxes and his hips come to a stop. He doesn’t step back from Harry, but does let his grip drop.

Harry’s body feels electrified and sharp and he has half a mind to suggest he call off the meeting, to suggest they just stay in bed all day. He groans as he stands up straight and leans back to rest against Barry’s chest. “Barry—?”

“We have ten minutes.” Barry says, voice soft but mildly alarmed. “If you want to make it there on time, we need to go, _now_.”

Harry looks at his lover’s expression, one that seems as torn as Harry feels—true, work beckons and they ought to be responsible… but…

Harry twists around and kisses Barry hard on the mouth. “I’ll call and reschedule,” he nips at Barry’s lower lip, licks into his mouth and deepens the kiss before speaking again.

“ _You_ need to make me come again.”


End file.
